Transitional Change
by spopococ
Summary: I was one of the prides of the Wutaian army, no one daring to question my skill. Then he'd found me and I'd become a force of my own, fighting against the very people who nurtured me to perfection. Yaoi in later chaps. Tseng/Seph. For Brunette S Angel.
1. Chapter 1

Relocated from The Seventh Heaven forums. For Brunette S Angel and all the other members of the forum. Love you guys.

**Warnings: Violence, language, possible Yaoi/Shounen-Ai in later chapters. Plans could have this story go more than one way. Lol. I do not own Final Fantasy VII, or any of the characters or content within. I do, however, own my computer, and the twisted imagination that spawned this piece of work.**

Taking this one as it comes.

--

I can remember the house I grew up in, as clear as the stream that ran beside it as I'd gazed into it of a night time and imagined something… bigger… My town had its fair share of conflicts and trivial disputes, but its nature was overall that of a placid kind. Nothing ever happened to boost the adrenaline, nothing cause a stilling of the heart, a stirring of the blood, a catching of your breath… Nothing ever made you feel as if you were truly alive. My house had its fair share of conflict on its own, the fights, the constant arguments and clashes of dominance. Even with the chaos that seemed to surround me, nothing ever seemed to change. That was, until the war.

I lived with three other men. My father, a somewhat lenient parent, was of strong mind and body. His work as a temple guard demanded a fit physique and strong moral bounds, something that my father had produced in large quantities. He always repaid his debts in the times he had been humble enough to accept a loan, and he followed customs and traditions almost religiously. He had always been as stubborn as a mule, and it was something my siblings and I had come to accept, knowing that despite all this, he had a lot of love to offer. My uncle and his son lived with us also. My uncle was, and forever shall be, a selfish individual who prided himself on his hedonistic lifestyle and the lavish amounts of money he spent on his son; all this whilst living in the home that his brother owned and maintained.

Perhaps the biggest concern was my uncle's son himself, Kodin, who looked to be heading down the same path of his father from a very young age. Kodin was five years my junior, but respect for his elders was a concept foreign to him, and ultimately a disgrace to the village we lived in. By the age of four he'd begun to growl and snarl at the village elders who dared to offer him a smile, and he had gone on to bite me in brawls and even times of peace by the time he was six. He had barely hit fifteen when war broke out, and although he'd matured beyond his growling and biting phase, he had replaced those with the use of crude words, backchat and an increasing level of violence. My uncle, ever the detached parent, had palmed him off to the military when he became too much of a nuisance. My father, ever the concerned parent, had begged me not to follow. I did, however, fearful of my cousin's safety despite his attitude, and very much [i]because[/i] of his attitude.

Military training turned out to be just what we both had needed. Kodin quickly gained the discipline and guidance his father had not bothered to provide him, enough so that I had stopped denying our bloodlines. For me, it offered an energy source, a spark of life I'd yet to have been offered, and I took it graciously.

"You're a _machine_," Kodin had whistled one afternoon after a training session. I'd offered a small smile and a slight ruffle of his hair.

"You're still young, class C may prove to be the same for you," I remarked, and he grinned.

"You won't be C for too long, the way you're going."

He had been right. I moved up to B class within a week, and found myself to be one of only three under the age of twenty four. I fought, and I fought hard, and I had never been afraid to fight even a little dirty to get the upper hand on my training partners. Each training exercise, each mock battle, each exam was effort to the highest degree. To me, perfection was a goal, not a myth.

"You're wearing yourself out," Kodin had frowned at the campfire one morning, "I hope you're not heading down Rebecca's path…"

Rebecca, my sister, had strived so hard for perfection that she had turned to dishonoring our family in her attempts to achieve it. My father had demanded she leave our house and never return, his respect and rose-tinted image of her finally dissolved. I held some resentment towards my sister, even as I wrote to her in Rocket Town and eagerly awaited news of her current life and if anything at all had ever changed. In the end however, I'd no longer envied her as I'd done as a child. She'd aimed for perfection and gained little more than a deep seeded misery behind the façade of happiness she created for herself and the others around her. She was a shell of what she could have been, and her hunger for the seemingly impossible had destroyed all that she'd once held dear.

I'd turned to Kodin on his last statement and frowned slightly, and he offered little more in his body language than a small shrug.

"I'm just saying, don't break yourself trying to break others," he shook his head, "I'd prefer _you_ weren't booted off to Rocket town as well, postage is expensive."

I'd bit back my laugh at that, merely giving his shoulder a slight squeeze and prodding the fire with a stick. It was nice, this sense of brotherhood between him and I. Secretly, it was something I'd always hoped to achieve, but had yet to reach. Now, Kodin was becoming a man, and a valuable and well respected member of our family. My father had stopped by to the military training field one afternoon and given me a small katana that his father had given to him. It had the Emperor's seal on the hilt and was beautifully carved with the figures of Da Chao. He had also bought a pistol with him, a much newer item, yet still with its own history. As he'd handed it to Kodin, he'd smiled and ruffled his nephew's hair.

"This weapon was once used by a Westerner when he'd come to Wutai in his attempts to assassinate our Emperor. I had managed to take the gun from him and use it against him," My father had laughed then, till his eyes brimmed with tears.

"I'd held it to him and he'd wet his pants," Father had laughed, wiping at his eyes, "I laughed so hard I was unable to kill him."

Despite being a temple guard, my father was yet to ever kill a soul. One way or another, he had found reasons not to kill. That, he had said, was a job for the more ruthless of his workmates. For him, apprehension, not execution, was his job.

Two weeks of B class, eight weeks less than the norm, had seen me promoted to A class. Shinra was our enemy, we were told, but my father's words had always been a form of guidance through my life, and they had reverberated through my ears once more.

"An enemy is not deemed by his title, his uniform, or even his family name," My father had said sternly one afternoon, "Only by his actions against you as an individual."

This had surprised me, as Wutai tradition demanded that any man who had committed a crime against one's family, had vengeance sought upon him. If not him, those he worked for, worked with, or those he bore blood ties to. This was the first time I had heard my father speak for himself, from experience, rather than the traditions he loved and cherished. My father believed that the only exception to this was war. He believed that any man choosing to fight in a battle and take the lives of another, had made his choice, and had committed his actions. He'd said that if our enemy had been Shinra, and a Shinra soldier had taken the life of unknown countrymen to me, he was the enemy of another. But if a Shinra soldier had taken the life of Kodin or any other individual whose passing would bear me pain, he became an enemy of my own. He said this also to Kodin, who I'm not sure had paid as much attention as I had, enthralled in the idea of action above all else. I was twenty years of age now, yet to meet a single person who I could truly deem my enemy under my father's words. Undoubtedly, I hoped I never would. Yet, with the promise of adventure and adrenaline, I signed up for deployment.

Every week there was a group of A class warriors sent to Midgar. Two groups waited before us, several more behind, and it was only then that I began to truly question war. I was the youngest to ever make A class, and then A class elite forces, but there stood no man on our sidelines that was over thirty. Many of them would never return. Even with these thoughts, there only came questions, not fear. No, the first time I would feel fear was when they came to our soil, unannounced, unexpected, and unstoppable. The image would forever be burnt into my mind of armored masks with glowing green eyes, electronic weaponry as yet unseen by our culture, and the bloodthirsty look of unwavering determination as they swept through our ranks. I first came to understand the word SOLDIER that day, and that there was far more of a difference between them and the normal kind than the capitalization of letters.

Then, he came, a towering force amongst his men, face expressionless as his blade killed my countrymen with effortless ease, his eyes creased slightly, even as they flashed with a fiery intensity I would later learn was not entirely mako. His motions? They were liquid, beautiful, flawless… perfection…It was _that_ day that I first came to understand that even the elite had its elite, and that Gods need not be immortalized in stone to forever be remembered.

It was that day I would come to put meaning to the name Sephiroth.

There'd been a ceasefire called, a temporary truce as our emperor extended his offers to Shinra for negotiation. Shinra took the extended hand and came with his General, and with a large group of his third class army. The orders were passed down quickly and quietly to Wutai's A Class elite. Kill Sephiroth. Without their General, their army would fall. Sephiroth, as it was known, was not an easily replaceable figure. The world would see that Shinra's power only extended to that of Sephiroth's; that the General was the true force behind the company, and Shinra Inc. would collapse. Twelve of us traveled by cover of night, entering the complex that Shinra had had set up for our guests to sleep in. The Third Class group fell swiftly in their sleep, an entire force removed and returned to the planet with no more of a disturbance than a muffled groan of startled surprise and pain. Him though, he knew we were coming. By whatever force guided him, he was well aware that we were coming, and we sought his blood.

He was standing armed and seemingly laid back as we entered the building he was residing in, his eyes sweeping across the group as they approached, slight reluctance lacing his eyes.

"You should leave now," He warned, his voice rich, deep, commanding, "While you still can."

We paid little heed to his warning, and hesitated no more than necessary. He fought with grace, with slightly less reluctance, and yet he continued to hold remorse with each of my countrymen slain. I'd stayed back briefly, watching, scoping for flaws, weaknesses, not foolishly assuming that this man would be an easy task, like so many of my comrades had. I held my blade and at ease, as he straightened from a sweeping slice of his blade, another Wutaian elite falling, and his eyes met mine squarely. They had fallen, and his katana wielded eleven more souls into its blade.

"Sephiroth."

"Yes."

He had not moved towards me, several metres separating us, yet his eyes watched me with sharp curiosity.

"You did not rush into battle," he noted, "You stayed back and you analyzed my movements."

"So If I should fight you, I may do so effectively, yes."

He faltered slightly, his mouth parting a few moments before his words were capable of forming.

"You show no anger towards me despite me taking their lives," He said softly, a gloved hand sweeping the room, "Why?"

"Remorse. I have felt it as I have slain your men, General," I explained, "And I see it now as you survey the fallen bodies of mine."

His eyes were calculating and cautious, though I saw an undeniable respect he seemed to be in no rush to hide. So it was mutual. He must have seen it too, as he straightened slightly, his eyes sweeping me in a fluid movement.

"You respect me also, warrior," He said quietly, "After everything I've done…"

He seemed mildly confused for a moment, before he continued.

"Does this mean we do not fight? Do you not wish to fight me?"

"On the contrary, it makes me want to fight you more," I nodded, readying my sword, remembering all too well what the blade represented. My fingers ran over the emperor's seal, and I felt a little more empowered in the face of my greatest opponent to date.

"…Work for us," Sephiroth proposed, "Skills of your caliber can surely only be suppressed here. It's a shame to see talent go to waste."

"I either fight here, or I die here," I replied, and he let out a small "hmph" of amusement, before he came for me.

His blows were strong, his speed was incredible, but his maneuverability was hampered slightly by his muscular frame. His mako enhancements gave him strength and power, but his connection with the planet was clouded by something impure, and so he overshot. It was likely that this would not have been a problem had he been fighting anyone but me. I dodged a blow and managed to swing my blade around to nick his abdomen, watching as the blood slipped from his wound with a heavily green tint. We both paused, his eyes widening with an impressed surprise, before he launched his next barrage of blows that effectively knocked me to my feet, his sword then pressing firmly against my throat.

"Do it…" I murmured, a soft smirk creeping across my lips as the adrenaline pounded through my veins. For me, this feeling _was_ perfection. The fear of death. Yet, with that feeling, death seemed almost meaningless.

"No," he said softly.

"Oh?"

"I have never once been wounded by another's blade," He explained, "It would be unjust to end your life."

"I told you," I smirked, "I fight here, or I die he-"

I never finished.

--

Six hours later, I woke, held captive in a Shinra holding truck and being told by the driver that Sephiroth had knocked me out with the hilt of the sword. Apparently, he said, I was lucky to be alive at all, and that Sephiroth had never been known to be the giving type.

"You'se bin givin a second chance at yer life, I says," The driver drawled, giving a nod of his head, his mere tone and abuse of his own words reminding me why I'd hated the English language. But, the Emperor had commanded we learn it. Not to blend with the Easterners, but to be able to fight back when they ever dared insult us. And quite often, they had. They'd come as ungrateful tourists to our lands, their words as sharp as their glares as they scrutinized our appearances, our differences. War was a matter of when, not if. The driver of the vehicle came to a sudden stop, and I sat defiantly as he demanded I head to the door. No matter, the door was flung open abruptly as three men with the glowing eyes and weapons stood there, smirks licking at their lips.

"Lookie here boys, a scared little mousie then," One remarked, "Maybe we should teach him some ov the words here in Midgar hey?"

His fellow snickered as he uttered a "Fuck ya, Wutaian scum, how ya like that? Can ya say that ya piece of trash? Say it with me now..."

I spat on him.

"You're not worth the ground you walk upon, you disgrace to Gaia," I hissed, as he wiped furiously at the saliva rolling down his cheeks and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the door of the truck. Had I not been handcuffed I would have killed him then and there.

"What the fuck did you just say?!" He barked, his eyes blazing, and that adrenaline spiked through me again.

"Set me down hick. Can you say that you piece of excrement? Should I speak slower? Ex-cre-ment… Say it with me…"

That got him fired up, and he kneed me in the stomach and smacked the back of my head with the butt of his gun as I fell to the ground, smirk now toying along my lips. Perhaps the Emperor knew what he was talking about.

"Get up!" he barked, hitting the back of my head once again. I blacked out momentarily, snickering groggily.

"It's difficult… to do so… when you keep striking me down…" I remarked. He raised his gun again and I braced for a hit that never came. Instead, the gun hit the ground, and my tormenter fell silent. I raised my eyes as a shadow fell over me. Sephiroth.

"Enough," He said dangerously, as the SOLDIER fumbled for his gun and nodded.

"Should I see any of you strike this man again, you shall deal directly with me," He continued, "By the book or not, depends on your actions at this moment."

They nodded hurriedly and stood rigidly, saluting as Sephiroth extended long gloved fingers to just below my shoulder and pulled me up by my arm. He met my eyes for only a moment, seemingly making sure I was conscious, before pushing me in front of him and guiding me into the nearby building.

"It would be wise not to try anything, warrior," He said quietly, as I felt the tip of his blade at my lower back, as my hands had just been toying with my cuffs. Escape… Sephiroth had made it impossible. As he lead me into a cell and ordered the guards to keep an eye on me, he held my gaze once again.

"If things go how I plan, this will only be temporary," He said flatly, before turning to the guards, "When I say a close eye, I mean as close as is possible. He's not your average PoW."

With that, he left, no further glance in my direction, even as I spat out a string of Wutaian curses. He caught me off guard however, as I came to learn that he could speak fluently in my own tongue. He stopped slightly, then replied with an "It would be wise to show courtesy, or I'll not use the hilt next time."

I resigned to the corner of my cell, and watched him leave, a small smirk on my lips.

--

SOLDIER was the most highly respected and commonly, the most despised, organisation within the Eastern world. They were a highly organized and structured force with some of the world's strongest men, enhanced by mako to the point that they were almost machines. It had been difficult for me to imagine controlling the planet's power for war and for battle, but I knew that if she were to disapprove, SOLDIER would not have remained for as long as it had. I came to learn much about SOLDIER, with Sephiroth visiting on an almost daily basis. He seemed to find me as somewhat of an experiment, and when I had asked if he did, he merely nodded slightly and gave the explanation that he was still determining what it was about me that made me tick. When I asked why, he fell silent and smirked slightly.

"In due time."

It was his response to many of my questions. When did he see the war ending, would there be peace between my people and his, would there ever be a way to breach the divide? And always, 'In due time'.

He was brutally honest, however. He never spared details, nor did he fabricate the truth when I asked specifics about the war, or asked him to tell me his experiences of war and battle. He did nothing to soften the blows. He had said once that Wutai was strong as an enemy, but we were a weak people amongst ourselves. I never believed it to be true. On one of his visits, Sephiroth sat a little quieter than usual and bore the news of Kodin's death, and the tale unraveled itself in the General's brutal details. For once, I'd wished he'd done something, anything, to soften the blow.

The Emperor had seen those with Midgarian blood in them to be traitors within the army, a weak link in his impenetrable chain. Kodin's mother, like my own, had come from Midgar's sister town, Kalm. We were now filth within our own homeland. He had been killed by the men he once fought alongside. Sephiroth's tale continued, each blow hitting lower in my chest, my stomach. My uncle, enraged with the grief of his son's death, had attacked the Emperor. It was a crime of treason in the eyes of our leader, and was punishable by death. My father remained alone in our four bedroom house, not one of his housemates bound to return.

"Devyan?" I'd said simply, my mind reeling, my chest constricting.

"He is safe. His wife and son begged they leave, should your Emperor discover his bloodline…"

Devyan, my brother, had been a monumental aspect of my life. Frequently, I'd turned to him for support, for guidance, as the eldest sibling and nine years my senior.

Our childhoods had been much the same, overshadowed with my father's beliefs that Rebecca was the blessing from Gaia. He'd lived with us until he was 26, before moving out with his then fiancée and conceiving their first child 2 years later. Now, he was on the run, persecuted by those he loved and protected, hunted by those he'd believed and cherished. Wutai had killed my cousin, destroyed my uncle, isolated my father, and deserted my brother. I had just recently turned 21 when my father's words had haunted me, and I'd made my first enemy.

--

**A/N**: Lemme know if you like, etc. I brought this story here to see if people would like to read more, basically, after I decided I want to make it into a multi-chap. PLEASE join the forum for more one-shots by me and other fanfic writers on there. You HAVE to be a member to read some boards, so join, join, join!


	2. Chapter 2

You asked for more, I'm writing it. There are actually a few chapters in the making. IF YOU WANT MORE, that is. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Warnings:** No real warnings for this chapter. Check previous chapter for what to expect. I self-beta by the way, so all mistakes are my own, and I'd actually appreciate it if you point them out.

--

Shinra did not feed their captives well. More often than not, I was offered little more than slop in a bowl. To offer it any more of a delicate title would be unjust to my taste buds. The bowl was slid under the space beneath the vertical bars, the bowl sloshing some of the mixture over the sides and onto my tattering pants.

"Go on then, scum bucket," The guard sneered, "Eat yer dinner."

He rattled the metal bars with a guard stick then, before heading over to take his seat by the prison entrance and kicking his shoes off, the smell further destroying any appetite I held within me at all. The past three days had been less than favorable. Sephiroth had been called back to the war effort, and I'd lost the only human being within this compound who offered me any shred of my former dignity. The guards had relocated me to an underground holding facility, a decrease in the already poor quality of my cell, with the added dismay that I now had no sunlight filtering through a grimy window. I had been effectively been sealed off from the world. Resigning to this fact had left me perched against the cell door, absorbing myself in my own spiral of depressing thoughts regarding my cousin, my uncle, my father. This position had left me susceptible to the saliva of the Shinra guards, as well as the occasional kick through metal bars, leaving me sprawled across the filth covered floor of my cell. Guffaws would enter my ears then, as my hatred for Shinra grew slightly more each day. Thoughts of my own homeland, however, were quickly tarnishing my opinion of the alternative to this cesspool. If I remained a prisoner of war, I remained alive. If I returned to my homeland, I'd be killed. I stared down at the bowl of gruel before me with vacant eyes, before begrudgingly taking the spoon within my hand. I'd rather suffer by my own means than be a part of a beheading before my father. No man should have to bury his son.

I swallowed a mouthful of the food, ignoring the toothless smile of the Shinra guard, seemingly forever omnipresent in my life.

--

Sephiroth was back by the fifth day, excusing the guard as he took the seat by my cell, silver hair swinging forward slightly, as he leant on his knees, emerald green eyes studying me as he settled.

"You're losing weight," He remarked softly, as I casted a half-hearted glance in his direction, "And apparently, your spirit."

"I believe that is the intention of your company's gruel, to break the spirit of others; is it not?" I replied drily, and he offered a small smirk.

"I've not had to endure the liquid for years now," He murmured, "But I still recall the taste. Here."

I turned slightly to face him, as he procured a small sealed food bar from his coat and handed it to me.

"Whatever you've been lacking in vitamins and proteins for the past week should be easily replaced with this," He explained, as I struggled with the wrapper, weakened fingers trembling slightly. I threw it back at him in frustration, and there was a small silence between us, before he picked the discarded bar from the ground and unwrapped it with calculated precision. He made to hand it to me again, but I held no fingers out to take it from his. I heard what sounded suspiciously like a small sigh escape his lips, before another small silence ensued.

"There's a temporary ceasefire between both opposing sides," he said flatly, "Your Emperor has seemingly decided that the increased loss of life on both sides needs to be taken into consideration, and a time set aside to bury the fallen of both parties."

"How considerate of him," I replied coldly, as he once again let out a soft sigh.

"The news of your capture is running rampant," he tested, "Many believe that you have been killed."

"Perhaps it is best that they continue to believe that."

"I've heard things about you whilst I've been over there, warrior," Sephiroth replied smoothly, "You are well recognised as the best that Wutai has to offer. The more interesting tales are of your family however, and of their connection to the Emperor himself."

"My father is a temple guard, there's little more to be told there," I replied flatly, praying to Gaia that his information regarding the incident extended no further.

"And of his daughter? The young princess?" Sephiroth pressed a little, and I rewarded him with a steely glare.

"Whatever connection I hold to the Emperor is meaningless. The day his orders resulted in the loss of my family was the day that I resigned all association with him," I replied stiffly, my gaze shifting to the cell floor, "I have no Emperor."

"I see," He said softly, standing to approach the cell door, before offering a hesitant gaze.

"Whilst holding a level of respect for you, warrior," He paused, "Let it be known that should the need arise, I would take your life to protect others of this company."

I offered a curious gaze, before he drew a key from his coat and slipped it into the lock. It swung open with a subtle twisting of his wrist and a small metallic 'click', before he entered the cell and stood before me, stooping slightly to offer a gloved hand in my direction.

"I think it's time we saw the president."

Despite my conscious demanding otherwise, I took his hand.

--

Unlike Wutai, Midgar was riddled with machinery and high rise buildings, each more ominous and intimidating than the last. The air was thick with the smell of mako pollution, the very stench of the planet decaying against her will. My stomach clenched slightly, an intense anger coursing through me at this company's audacity in daring to challenge her in such a manner. It was quickly replaced with a sorrow of knowing that, somehow, they were winning. The citizens passing by did not look as if they were happy in the slightest, their faces wrought with stress, concern, sorrows of their own to deal with, as they mindlessly worked under the one man.

"It must be very different to what you're used to," Sephiroth mused, casting an emerald gaze over his shoulder, as the guards on either side of me exchanged a smirk between each other.

"Yes," I replied softly, my fists clenching slightly in their restraints, "How is it that a company can hold such a stronghold over not only the planet, but the will of its people also?"

"It's debatable," Sephiroth replied calmly, "Perhaps with respect, perhaps with fear, but I have often wondered the same about your Emperor."

I faltered in my step, and the guard to my flank pushed me sharply with the butt of his gun. I stumbled forward, continuing the pace at which Sephiroth had set, as the General offered another gaze over his shoulder.

"Despite appearances, these two cities are much the same," he explained, "As are the countrymen. Looks can be highly deceptive."

We approached the towering structure of Shinra headquarters, and my mind struggled to pass the overwhelmed awareness of exactly where I was and who I was about to be presented to, as Sephiroth continued his reasoning.

"Your people are following under one leader, as are ours. Each city is ruled by absolute obedience; whether it be from respect or fear or perhaps a little of both, is applicable, but irrelevant regardless. The everyday citizen works to support themselves, their futures, perhaps families, doing occupations that many are likely to be unhappy with. The children play in the streets, be they paved with stone, or with grass," Sephiroth's eyes met mine once again, "So really, apart from the structures that overshadow you at this instant, how does Midgar differ from Wutai?"

I thought for several moments, as the guards let out a few small chuckles.

"Greed, corruption, disrespect for your fellow man," I replied, offering a brief flicking of the eyes to the guards at my sides, "An abundance of wealth that Wutai never held."

"Perhaps you merely look at it the wrong way. Does your Emperor not hold a certain sense of greed in regards to his own fortunes? I'm well aware that some of your people have been suffering from poverty well before Shinra ever set foot on your soil, yet your Emperor has always lived in comfort," Sephiroth replied, his eyes returning once again to the building before him.

People passing us often looked up at the passing General in awe, yet he held little concern for the gestures. If anything, he seemed slightly uncomfortable. Was he perhaps reluctant of his own position within this company? Perhaps he had been thrust into the spotlight with little choice of his own in the matter. The thought bothered me a little more than I was willing to admit.

"As for disrespect for your fellow man, perhaps these men beside you are not best to judge from," Sephiroth said coolly, as the smirks fell from their faces, "Midgar, like all places, has its good and bad in terms of their citizens. As for wealth, look around you."

I did so, my eyes scanning the individuals lining the streets. There were mainly white collar workers, business suits and pressed skirts lining almost every individual as they made purchases from lavish stores, and sipped coffee in refined cafés.

"Midgar is composed of two layers. At the moment, we're on the upper plate. This is the business district of Midgar. Many of the residents here are middle to upper class residents, often employees of Shinra themselves, or maintenance workers of the reactors at this level of the city. Below us are the city slums," Sephiroth paused, turning his gaze back to mine once again, "where poverty and crime runs rife. More often than not, Shinra offers no funding to these communities, allowing them to make do with what little resources they themselves are able to provide. As earlier said, warrior, appearances can be highly misleading."

I walked in silence, my mind turning with the information the General was providing. Whilst we harnessed the power of the planet by using her water, however, they used the Lifestream itself. Here was where I found the biggest fault with Shinra, and the manners in which they abused the planet's natural cycle of life. Walking before me was a clear example of this, as emerald eyes glowed slightly with an unnatural light, harnessed from the planet with the intention of creating human weapons.

"Tighten security," Sephiroth ordered to the guards beside me, as each took one of my arms, cuffing me to their own wrists, and cocking their guns. The guard behind me pressed the barrel of his rifle against my back, as we entered the front doors of Shinra headquarters, a towering mass of elevators and windows, glowing with enough electricity to supply Wutai for a month or more. Sephiroth headed to an elevator and swiped a card into one of the panels beside it. The elevator, which had been steadily climbing the building, now began to return to the bottom floor. The doors chimed open to several Shinra employees, all of which evacuated without as much as a respectful nod to the General.

"Apologies," He offered, before they all nodded furiously, claiming that 'of course it was absolutely alright, General.' I frowned slightly, as several offered cautious gazes in my direction, their eyes raking along my dirty and tattered appearance. The guards beside me straightened in an apparent need to show their self importance, before helping me inside. The guard with the rifle at my back stayed behind on Sephiroth's orders, as the General pushed the button for the top floor of the building. He needed to swipe his card once again before the command was accepted, and the elevator jolted into movement. I looked out the glass side as it ascended, eyes transfixed on the array of blinking lights, traffic, and bustling civilians that was Midgar. The city was a map of winding reactor components, air traffic control stations, apartment complexes and more, and I had to force myself to turn away from the sight. How could such toxicity hold such simplistic beauty in its design?

"There is no shame in admitting captivation," Sephiroth murmured from behind me, his breath against my ear, as I turned my gaze slightly to see his eyes hovering just behind my shoulder, all of those lights reflecting on the emerald surface. He offered a small smirk before pulling back slightly.

"The first time I'd seen it all, a part of me demanded that I not hold interest. I'd spent much of my life beforehand in a country town, followed by a much colder climate, and the air here had already proven to be irritating to my lungs. I found it as a fitting reason to hate the city itself," Sephiroth said quietly, the guards seemingly listening in intently, "But in reality, I couldn't stop my interest from showing through when my eyes settled on all those lights for the first time. It's human nature to be captivated by new experiences."

"How long ago was that?" I asked, and his expression didn't shift, even as his eyes darkened slightly.

"I believe I was seven, so approximately thirteen years ago," He replied calmly, as the guards seemingly spluttered slightly at the revelation.

"You're _twenty_, sir?!" One of the guards managed to choke, as the General gave a small nod. I managed to hold back on my own surprise at the news, allowing my eyes to settle on the city outside instead. Sephiroth was _younger_ than I was, and already, SOLDIER first class and General of the Army? Had I remained in Wutai, I was likely to have been General by twenty two, and that would have very well been the youngest in our country's history.

"When did you become General?" I asked, and he offered a small smirk.

"Curiosity is an interesting thing," He remarked casually, "It can drive people to ask things they may otherwise not be inclined to."

There was a small silence then, before he let out a soft noise, seemingly a repressed laugh.

"I was seventeen," he murmured, "And it wasn't entirely my choice."

The guards at least seemed to know enough to not question further, and I respectfully did the same. For some reason, it seemed to me as if Sephiroth had just shared a few details in that confined space that he had not shared with anyone else. There was very little known about the General besides rumors back in Wutai, and by the looks of it, the guards had known very little of the General also. Seemingly he was a private man, and it was something I could relate to, to say the least. The elevator chimed, and the door slid open, as the guards ushered me off, after an approving nod from the General. He stepped out afterwards, and the four of us stood silently for a moment, as Sephiroth flashed his key card once again to open a nearby door. A blue light indicated the lock had opened, and he turned to face the guards.

"You may un-cuff yourselves. I'm relieving you of his care," He said calmly, as the guards gave a questioning glance at each other.

"It was an order, guards," Sephiroth repeated, voice suddenly tinged with a lick of ice, before the guards nodded and hurriedly un-cuffed themselves. They gave a salute once they'd finished, before the General ordered them to stay in the waiting room. They did so obediently, taking a seat in some of the chairs, as Sephiroth placed a hand on my elbow and guided me through the door. We approached another, which opened automatically, and he stopped at a desk, where a secretary sat, chewing on the end of her pen. She sat up straight, as she saw the General enter, seemingly startled by his presence.

"General Sephiroth, sir, how may I help you today?" She asked smoothly, her eyes flicking to me briefly.

"I'd like to see the president," Sephiroth replied fluently, "I have a matter to discuss with him, regarding a prisoner of war."

She nodded, holding a button down on her desk phone and repeating what the General had said.

"_Let him in." _A voice replied, and Sephiroth gave a polite nod of gratitude, before tightening his grip on my elbow and steering me for the staircase, the secretary's eyes set squarely on mine with a cautious curiosity the entire time.

"Do not speak unless you're spoken to, and it would be wise to remain entirely still for the duration of the meeting," Sephiroth murmured in my native tongue, "For the time being, it would be best if he was unaware you speak English. You may change his belief of this should he address you directly. Until that time, remain silent and do not make eye contact."

"Do not make eye contact?" I asked, and his eyes flicked briefly to mine.

"Despite your best effort at times, your eyes are highly expressive," He murmured, "Should he come to realise you can understand him before due time, it may be somewhat of a problem."

I gave a small nod, and stayed silent as we climbed the staircase and emerged into a white marble office, a large desk settled a few metres from a large glass window overlooking almost the entire city. I saw a portly man behind the desk, blonde hair thinning across his head, as steel blue eyes met mine briefly. He radiated confidence and power, as he sat up straight, adjusting his magenta suit and nodding as Sephiroth and I approached him. I lowered my eyes, focusing on the polished tiles at my feet.

"Sephiroth. Always a pleasant surprise," The man drawled, "And who is this?"

"This is a prisoner of war, president. I had a proposal in mind that I thought you may be interested in hearing," Sephiroth replied professionally, squeezing my elbow slightly as my eyes almost met his in a brief glance upwards. I returned my eyes to the floor.

"A proposal, you say?" The president asked, interest seemingly high, as his chair squeaked beneath him, "That's a rare thing to hear from you, General."

"I am aware of this," Sephiroth replied smoothly, "But with all circumstances considered, this is something I thought necessary."

There was a silence then, the chair creaking again as the president presumably shifted in it.

"Go on then," the man finally replied, as Sephiroth gave a small nod.

"This soldier was captured by me personally in the more recent attempt against my life," Sephiroth explained, "He was the sole survivor from his group."

"Ah yes, we've just recently signed the documentation for his execution," The president drawled, Sephiroth squeezing my arm sharply, as my attention almost snapped to the man in mortification. They would execute me here? Knowing Shinra's past experiences with the execution of prisoner's of war, it would mean my body would remain in a plot of mass graves in a Midgarian cemetery. My father would never be able to lay my body to rest, nor have a sanctuary for his grieving. A crueler circumstance could not be conceived by my mind at that present time.

"Which is why I offer a compromise," Sephiroth said casually, as if discussing the weather.

"Oh?"

"I have personally seen him in action. He has many fine qualities of a Turk, president. Accuracy, intelligence, foresight, agility, determination, dedication, as well as a few others on top of that," Sephiroth explained, as a variety of objections arose in my mind already. Not much was known of the Turks in Wutai, but my father had often told us stories of anything he did know.

…"_Tseng, what Turks are has always been debated. In my own eyes, they're merely individuals who have lost their way. They turn to their duties as Turks as a method of seeking redemption or vengeance; but they often do horrible things to get there. I'm not saying they're bad people, but you've got to wonder what situation one would have to be in to take up such responsibilities"…_

I'd asked my father why anyone would, and he smiled, shrugging slightly, as he raked some of the leaves in our garden.

…"_There are many dirty jobs in the world, my son. Not everything is good and pure. But, some things are necessary for the balance of good and bad. World peace is almost a comical thought. As much as I hate to say it, war, violence, hate, anger… it will always be around. The people need it to have something to balance out their faith. If everything was good, there'd be nothing to hope for, to hold faith in. There are many dirty jobs in the world, and simply, Tseng, somebody __**has**__ to do them"…_

Kidnapping, murder, espionage, high risked, dangerous things… It was everything we'd heard about the Turks and what they did, and Sephiroth was suggesting that _I_ fall into such patterns? At first, I was outraged, missing a part of whatever Sephiroth's explanations to the president were; but a darker thought continued to niggle at the back of my mind. All of the boredom, the gaping hole of adventure, excitement, everything that was missing in my life… All that had made me join the army, fight in a war; every _true_ meaning to my dedication to battle… It could be offered by the Turks. My mind strayed to that moment; Sephiroth holding Masamune against my throat, with the very threat of death and danger present in my every sense; that had been the one moment I'd truly felt alive.

"…Can he shoot a gun?" I heard Shinra ask, as my attention drifted to the conversation at hand.

"I'm not sure, Sir," Sephiroth replied softly, as Shinra scrawled down some notes on a sheet of paper.

"We are short on Turks at the moment, as I'm sure you are very aware of, General. However, what makes you think that a Wutaian soldier would be willing to become one?" Shinra asked, as he shifted in his chair.

"His loyalties no longer lie with the Emperor," Sephiroth said simply.

"What of his family?"

"His father remains in Wutai. His brother was forced to relocate with his young family, due to Kalm bloodlines, and he has a sister in Rocket Town detached from the family," Sephiroth explained; the calm way in which he managed to say it all was making me almost envious.

"He comes from a Kalm bloodline, then?" Shinra asked, seemingly curious, "That's interesting indeed. I suppose it is from his mother's side, then?"

"Yes. His mother is also estranged from the family. He had an Uncle and cousin living with him also, but both were killed under the Emperor's commands."

I let out a small sigh, barely restraining the hot tears threatening to fall. Had the wound not been so raw, the strength would not be bleeding so readily from me. I seldom showed any form of emotional weakness at the best of times, but each mention of the circumstances of their death poured salt into a still open wound. As it were, I felt a slight tremble wracking my body as darker thoughts briefly consumed me. I stilled then, however, feeling a small brushing of a thumb along the back of my elbow. At first, I presumed it to be accidental, before the action was repeated in a rhythmic pattern. Sephiroth continued speaking calmly to the president however, not missing a beat, and offering no eye contact in my direction. I calmed my breathing, willing my emotion away, managing to do so just in time before the conversation caught my attention.

"Can he learn English then?" Shinra asked.

"He knows English, president," Sephiroth replied calmly, as Shinra let out an impressed 'hmph'.

"So you stood there the entire time and didn't offer a word, did you?" Shinra asked, and I hesitated in replying, before a reassuring squeeze was placed on my elbow.

"Yes," I replied quietly, raising eyes to meet Shinra's squarely for the first time.

I could see he was an intelligent man, that much was apparent, but he held the same greed I had expected to see. Somewhere, however, I could see he was patient, and there was kindness for those who managed to earn it. It was a little unsettling, meeting eyes with the man who had sent war to my country. I expected anger to rise within me, but it never came. Perhaps it was then that I'd sealed my own fate.

"What's your name?" He asked, and I shuffled slightly, straightening my back.

"Tseng," I replied, "And if I may be so blunt Mister President, I find surnames irrelevant in such a situation."

He seemed impressed, turning a brief glance in Sephiroth's direction, before returning his gaze to me.

"That's quite alright. Are you aware of the Turks, Tseng?" He asked, as I offered a nod, "And does the idea that Sephiroth has proposed hold any interest with you?"

"In comparison to execution on foreign soil, Mister President, I believe anyone would hold at least some interest," I replied, and he let out a small laugh.

"Let me tell you this, Tseng. Your people are a great people. This conflict need not have gone on for as long as it has, we are simply yet to reach a compromise with your Emperor," Shinra frowned slightly, reclining in his chair, "And when he began to massacre his own people? Well, we were unsure of his motives, and so our strategies need to be reconsidered once again. Let it be known though…"

He stopped then, pulling a cigar from his desk draw and raising it to his lips in his chubby grasp. He lit it and offered an almost warm smile as he looked over at me.

"We could just as easily bombard Wutai, and she would be lost. We have the resources, the funds, and the man power that your nation is lacking," He paused, before taking a puff of smoke in his mouth and curling it back out.

"Yet you choose not to. Why?" I asked, and he raised his brows slightly in surprise.

"You're a bold man, Tseng. I can appreciate this," He mused, "However, the answer is simple. We don't want to destroy Wutai, we want to liberate her. Originally, intentions were to take the land for ourselves. Fighting against your people, we came to realise that Wutai was a land of her people. We would have left then and there, but upon meeting your Emperor, we came to realise that she could not be left how she was, Wutai. Should your Emperor cave in to our will, we believe the war will end. If not, we will continue to fight against your people for as long as is necessary."

"It's believable," I nodded, as Shinra leant further back in his chair.

"Knowing this information, knowing that I intend to do such things to your Emperor and your homeland, how does that make you feel?" Shinra asked, as I stood unwavering.

"I have no Emperor, president Shinra, so your threats and plans for conquest over his empire hold little interest to me," I replied smoothly.

"So working for me may not be such a concern of yours?"

"My only concern lies with my family's safety."

"And if your family was able to be brought to Midgar?" Shinra suggested, and my heart stilled momentarily in my chest.

"If that were a possibility," I paused, "I would unquestionably follow your orders, sir."

He gave a small nod and stood from his chair, gesturing for me to step forward. I did so with Sephiroth's aid, before Shinra held out a sweaty palm in my direction.

"I can have them located in paid accommodation within Midgar in twelve hours time," He nodded, teeth smiling around his cigar, "I believe you'll make a valuable contribution to the efforts, Tseng, should you prove your loyalty."

For the second time that day, I shook the hand of an enemy; and as a result, made an accomplice.

--

**A/N**: I… like this story. I can see where everything's going, and I hope you're as into this as I am. Updates will come relatively quick, but this is **not** one of my priorities at the moment. Older work will always come first, I'm just garnering interest. I can end this in one more chapter, or I can keep this going for longer. So… who wants more?


	3. Chapter 3

Unbelievably rapt with how much love this story is receiving already. At the time of writing the author's notes, there were a total of 30 reviews, and it's only been two chapters. Thank you so much!

The idea for Blue and Black Turk suits = different ranks, came from Hitokimi. She gets credit for the idea, and you should check out her stories for more Turk awesomeness.

**Warnings:** See previous chapters. Also, I haven't actually PLAYED BC, but I THINK I know the story behind it enough to feel a LITTLE confident in giving it a crack. Plus, there's always FF wiki. Just try and imagine that I know what I'm talking about ENTIRELY, and have no problems in relation to the storyline. NO PROBLEMS AT ALL. . *cough* hahaha. Seriously though, if anyone wants to be my Before Crisis tutor, give me a buzz. I'm taking a big risk here by attempting characters I'm really not familiar with, I know, but let me know how I go. Hahaha. I'm scared! XD

--

Sephiroth had un-cuffed me the moment my fingers left Shinra's, and the General offered me a brief smile of reassurance, before turning his attentions back to the president.

"General, you'll need to take Tseng to pick up a rookie uniform. I'll call the Commander now and fill him in," Shinra mused, pulling open a filing cabinet and sliding out a manila folder, "Turk accommodation is full, by the looks of it. Would you permit him to stay in the SOLDIER barracks?"

"If I may suggest, president, perhaps he could have the quarters beside mine," Sephiroth said smoothly, "Considering Tseng's background, he may fall under threat of fellow workers until his position at the company is established."

Shinra gave a small frown, thinking it over as Sephiroth offered him an unwavering gaze. The idea, to me, sounded ludicrous. Whilst I myself knew that it was pointless to try anything, from an outsider's perspective, to allow a Wutaian citizen to stay in such a close proximity to the General was _highly_ risky. From another perspective however, keeping me as close to the General as Sephiroth was suggesting was likely to be the safest option for the rest of the company. The more time I was around Sephiroth, the less likely I was to cause hassles with anybody else.

"Should you feel comfortable doing that, as well as keeping an eye on him for the time being, I'll allow it," Shinra nodded, "But he will not be permitted a pass card for a level that high. You'll need to be there to let him in and out of his living arrangements. Do you accept such a responsibility, General?"

Sephiroth gave a small nod, and everything made sense to me then. Being accepted as a Turk, being spared execution, being given quarters in the SOLDIER building, being escorted by Sephiroth itself, was all permitted due to Shinra's confidence in Sephiroth himself. It had nothing to do with any potential he saw within me. The General had just saved my life.

Sephiroth was handed a special access card to my room. Thankfully, even the General didn't have the freedom to randomly enter everyone else's quarters. That is, except for mine.

"Once you have proven your loyalty, Tseng, you may hold that access card yourself," Shinra nodded, offering a seemingly sympathetic frown, "I apologise for the circumstances, but surely you can understand."

"Yes sir," I nodded, and he gave a small smile, before his desk phone rang. Shinra gave Sephiroth a nod after checking the caller ID, and the General took his leave, taking me with him. Once we had headed back downstairs, he offered me a sidelong glance and a small smile.

"Thank you," He murmured, and I faltered slightly in my step.

"_You_ are thanking _me_?" I queried, and he nodded.

"Thank you for trusting me," He explained, turning his eyes to the secretary and offering a polite nod as we passed. She did the same, tapping relentlessly at her keyboard.

"If you were anyone else, you may very well have lashed out at the idea of working for the enemy, so to speak," Sephiroth nodded, "But you kept a level head, and you trusted in me to keep quiet and allow these things to slide. I understand it was difficult to hear mention of your family."

I felt my cheeks warm slightly from the embarrassment of needing Sephiroth there to hold my composure, but offered a small thank you of my own.

"I wasn't going to allow them to execute you, regardless of whether you accepted the proposal or not," He murmured, offering a small frown, "It would be a fine waste of talent."

We approached the waiting room where the guards were, and when they saw me both unrestrained and talking casually with Sephiroth, they offered a concerned look in the General's direction.

"Tseng is now a Turk rookie. I would recommend you keep your weapons lowered for the remainder of our trip together," Sephiroth said firmly, as the guards saluted.

"Yes Sir!" They nodded, not managing to hide their surprise at the newest revelation. Sephiroth swiped his card as we all filed into the elevator, the guards shifting uncomfortably on their feet, as I turned once more to face out the window.

"You'll become accustomed to this sight, rookie," Sephiroth nodded. It took a moment before I realised he was addressing me; It had been some time since I had held that title.

"My family…"

"Will be well looked after, rest assured. The president is likely to call for them immediately. It's not often he would go against his word with me," Sephiroth nodded, and I offered a silent thank you in my thoughts for the Gaia sent blessing Sephiroth was fast becoming. As my eyes gazed out the window, a part of them longed for the sight of Da Chao, or the town's river; something, anything that was pure and untouched by mako. But as my imagination procured this image, I found Da Chao to be chipped and worn by gunfire, and every time I imagined the stream running by my house, it swirled red with my Uncle's and Kodin's blood. The image of Wutai was tainted to me now, and the Emperor was to blame. I closed my eyes and remained that way, the entire elevator trip to the first floor, not daring to let that reminder leave my thoughts.

--

The room was dead silent as we entered, despite at least six others present, apart from the General and myself. Sephiroth gave a nod to a man seated in the corner behind a desk, reddish brown hair hanging slightly over an angular face.

"Commander," Sephiroth nodded politely, as I took in the scenery. The room was pristine in its cleanliness, everything filed and neat, no chaos present in the slightest. The five other individuals surrounding us wore tight lipped expressions as they watched on with apparent disdain. Each of them were donned in either blue or black suits. I'd later come to find out that the colour signified the individual's rank within the division.

"General Sephiroth, how may we help you today?" The Commander rumbled, eyes settling on me for a brief moment, "Unless you are here regarding the newest addition to the team?"

"That is the nature of my call, yes," Sephiroth admitted, "I assume the president has called ahead then?"

"Yes. We'll have him fitted within the next thirty minutes. What's your name?" The Commander asked, leaning forward in his chair with a curious gaze in my direction.

"My name is Tseng, sir."

"Well Tseng, I'm Veld, Head of the Department of Administrative Research. You may call me Commander or Sir. You'll come to learn that as a Turk, you do everything I tell you to without question. You run and you jump, you die for all it is worth, if that is what shall benefit this team," He said firmly, "Whatever I tell you to do; you do it. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," I gave a firm nod, as a few of the other Turks exchanged smirks amongst themselves.

"Good. Cissnei will take you to the tailor," Veld nodded, gesturing at a young brunette, "I trust you still remember where it is?"

The brunette gave a nervous nod and gestured for me to follow her as she slipped from the room. Sephiroth gave a nod, before turning his attentions to the Turk as the door swung shut behind us.

Cissnei gave a small smile, before heading off. I followed behind her as she toyed with the hem of her shirt absent-mindedly.

"The tailor's not too far away, we should be there soon," She said softly, as I gave a small nod, "So, Tseng was it?"

"Yes."

"I'm Cissnei. I'm one of the older Turks here," she smiled softly, and I offered her one of my own in return.

"Older Turks?" I asked, noticing that she seemed very young- apparently a few years below me- and it lead me to wonder how such a seemingly sweet girl had landed herself a position at the Turks.

"In regards to how long I've been here, that is," She explained.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I replied politely, "How long have you have been working with the Turks?"

She faltered slightly, offering a briefly surprised expression, before smiling and blushing slightly.

"I'm sorry for the reaction," She said softly, "I guess I was expecting you to have broken English skills…"

"In Wutai, we're taught from a very young age to speak your language as well as our own," I explained, and she gave a small nod.

"I've been here since I was very young. I'm the youngest to ever join, actually. I was practically raised by the company. They've offered promotion a few times, but I'm not sure I'm quite cut out for it just yet," She answered my previous question, clearing her throat in an awkward gesture, "They know I have skills of my own or they wouldn't have even put me on trial, but I'm still pretty much a speck in the Turk cog system I guess."

She gave a small, uncomfortable laugh, as she flicked eyes nervously to me.

"Veld's a little intimidating to say the least, but he's really very well respected," She nodded, seemingly reassuring herself more than me, "He's definitely someone you have little choice but to take orders from. You don't want to go against him…"

She walked for a little longer, seemingly struggling to make small talk.

"Most of the other Turks, they probably won't tell you their names just yet," She smiled a little sadly, "They're kind of like that at first. We're a tight knit group, really. Even if they do tell you their names, they're likely to be pseudo ones… Most of them choose to forget their real ones in favour of something fresh and disconnected from their pasts."

"Is that the same with you?" I asked, and she offered an awkward smile.

"Yes."

We walked in relative silence the rest of the way, the girl escorting me seemingly too uncomfortable to attempt idle chatter. I wasn't horribly bothered, realising that having a Wutaian soldier suddenly thrust into the middle of a tight knit group of Shinra Special Forces employees was dangerous ground that I now had to tread. To expect the others to offer any sort of compassion this early on in my existence here was ludicrous. I fully expected my treatment to get a heck of a lot worse before it got better, and that was apparent, even as I met the tailor. Cissnei opened a door with her keycard, and gestured me inside, my eyes settling on the man behind the counter. He narrowed his eyes, and within moments, had drawn a shotgun from beneath the counter and aimed it squarely for my head. Cissnei inhaled sharply in her surprise, but I managed to successfully do little more than flinch as I held the man's eyes.

"Just who the hell do you think _you_ are?!" He spat, the gun trembling slightly in his sweaty palms, "Jes' walkin' in here like you own the fucking place!

"He's a new Turk rookie, he needs a uniform!" Cissnei cried, "Lower your weapon _immediately_!"

The guy gave her a once over, eyes still narrowed in suspicion.

"And who are you?"

"I'm Cissnei. I'm a Turk candidate also," She breathed slowly, calming herself, "We were sent on Veld's orders for Tseng to be fit."

His eyes turned back to mine, as I stood unwavering.

"You can lower your gun," I reassured, "If I were attempting to kill anyone from Shinra, you would be the very least of my concerns, would you not?"

He held his gaze, keeping the gun steadily aimed as he tilted his head slightly.

"You speak pretty good English there, boy," He spat again, "What's a Wutaian lad doing working for the Turks?"

"My mother was from Kalm," I replied simply, and he abruptly lowered his gun, wiping a sweaty brow with a handkerchief.

"Well fuck me, ya shoulda said so," He offered a remorseful sigh, "What that bastard's doin' to you guys is mighty shitful, I tell ya that much. I ain't ever heard anything like it in my life."

Cissnei seemed to visibly relax, but also confused. I myself was a little curious as to how the tailor knew of the happenings of Wutai. The genocide that the Emperor was committing on a daily basis was kept _well_ hidden. The foreign media had not picked up news of anything, and local media were often threatened with death should they reveal anything 'potentially threatening to the Empire's image'. Censorship had become the latest taboo amongst our society, but many outside of our walls did not know of this. He offered a knowing nod and tapped the side of his head.

"Seems I wasn't the only one to make a wrong first impression of someone," He shrugged slightly, before pulling out an ID card, "SOLDIER third class. I got sent back a few days before the others got wiped out, after a landmine took out my leg. My brother was amongst that lot… that didn't make it…"

He pulled a face then, as if in an unimaginable amount of pain, and I felt bile rise in my throat. We'd been silent that night, when we'd slaughtered each of those sleeping individuals. I tried reassuring myself that this man's sibling had suffered little pain, fallen in his sleep, but Gaia knows how long they'd laid there before the last of their blood had spilt. At the time, the only thought that had been running through my head was destroying Sephiroth and bringing pain to those who had taken so much away from me, from us, from Wutai herself. The thought had never crossed my mind that by taking the lives of those men, we were stripping children of fathers, wives of husbands, parents of their sons, and siblings of their brothers.

"I'm sorry," I apologised, and he waved a hand dismissively.

"Ah, don't worry about it, lad. Not like it was you personally," He strained a laugh, "Ya can't go apologizing for someone else's actions."

I very well could have killed him. I could have killed your brother, I wanted to say, but my tightened stomach and constricted throat would not allow it. Cissnei was seemingly the observant type, watching my face and offering a brief sympathetic expression, before turning back to the tailor.

I stood for fifteen minutes whilst he took my measurements for a suit, talking of how he'd performed in very few combat situations, and how his skills had been better put to use as a makeshift surgeon.

"I know how to work a needle," He winked, as he stretched the measuring tape along my arm, "But as well as that they had me makin' repairs to damaged tents and the likes."

I nodded, half interested as he scribbled down notes, and Cissnei sat properly on a chair nearby, her hands cradled in her lap as she offered soft smiles of encouragement in my direction. I was starting to think that perhaps I had found an associate within the Turks already. As was always the case, I intended to make it to the very top. Cissnei may prove to be a useful ally, should I continue gaining her trust.

"Yer all set, Tseng. Come back in an hour or so, and I'll have a shiny blue suit for ya," The tailor offered a toothy smile and clapped a hand on my back, "Sorry about the whole trying to shoot you thing."

I offered a tiny smile and a murmured thank you, before hurrying out of the store, my head spinning slightly with the suddenly thick air. I'd killed many men in my time as a soldier, but was there ever meaning or purpose behind it, other than my desires to find excitement in life? The thrill of a threat had consumed me, and I felt nauseated by the realisation.

"…Tseng?" Cissnei called softly as she exited shortly after, placing a tentative hand on my elbow. Somehow, the touch was far from providing the same reassurance that Sephiroth had managed to, another thought that unsettled me. For my entire life, it had taken a lot for me to learn to trust, and yet I had surrendered it to the General far too readily. Now, I was even allowing Cissnei a brief glimpse into my weaknesses. I straightened where I stood and gave a small nod of my head.

"We should make our way back to the Commander," I said simply, and she nodded.

When we entered Veld's office, I paused briefly, noticing that all of the Turks had since disappeared; and Sephiroth was leaning heavily on the Commander's desk, silver hair covering his face from view as he murmured words to the man before him. He stopped when he heard the door close behind us, however, and stood straight as he turned to face me.

"Tseng, I trust everything went well?" He asked, a hint of lingering annoyance licking at his words, before he offered a small smile, albeit a bit of a forced one, and his expression became a little softer.

"Yes sir," I nodded, and he did the same.

"If you'll excuse us, Commander, Tseng has yet to be shown to his quarters," Sephiroth offered politely, and Veld gave a small nod of indifference.

"Bring him back once he has a uniform," the Commander replied stiffly, as Sephiroth practically swept out of the office, expecting me to follow. I offered a brief nod and a polite thank you to Cissnei, who smiled nervously in return, before heading after the General. He was waiting a few metres from the door, emerald eyes flashing slightly as I approached him. I offered a concerned frown, and he shook his head slightly.

"In addition to the Turks, Veld is partially responsible for the operation of Weapons control," Sephiroth offered as way of explanation, "Whilst the director of SOLDIER and I get along exceptionally, Veld and I occasionally have our differences."

I gave a small nod of understanding, before we carried on for some time in silence.

"Be careful whilst you're new," Sephiroth offered the soft warning, breaking the silence as I gave him a curious gaze.

"Be careful of what, exactly?"

"The other Turks," He said bluntly, "I have little doubt that in the long run, they'll likely be working for both Veld and yourself. Until that time, they're likely to force you to earn their respect, as the Commander did with them. Some of them aren't the particularly loving types. Many are brought up from dark backgrounds, in even darker areas, and more often than not, have a complete disregard for an individual's rights if they see it fit to do so."

We walked in silence once again, before he swiped his keycard across another elevator panel, and the doors chimed open. He placed his hand gently on my lower back and guided me to step inside, following shortly after. He keyed in a command, swiping his card once again, furrowing his brows slightly as the elevator made a succession of three mechanical beeps. He seemingly suppressed a small sigh, before keying in the command once again, sliding his card through the slot.

"Does the use of keycards get bothersome?" I asked, and he offered a dry smirk.

"What gave me away?" He asked lightly, and I allowed myself a small laugh. He turned his gaze to me, offering a curious smile. I offered a questioning one of my own, and he shook his head slightly.

"That's the first time I've heard you laugh," He explained simply, and I turned my gaze to look out across the city.

"I'm not the type who does so often," I replied casually, and he gave a small 'hmph'.

"I empathize…" He nodded, turning himself to gaze out the windows, "It's been some time since I paid any attention to the city from the elevator."

"But surely you take it every day?" I asked, confused, and he offered a small frown.

"Perhaps that's exactly the reason why I stopped doing it," He said quietly, before offering a small smile, "It would be interesting to see it through new eyes; ones that aren't weary of the repetitive cycle they're currently subjected to. Tell me, how do you see Midgar, Tseng?"

The question was so childlike in its inquisitiveness and so pure in its naïveté that I was taken aback momentarily. I briefly met curious emerald eyes, before turning once again to face out the window.

"I see a city filled with sprawling machinery, flashing lights, bustling citizens and speeding traffic. It seemingly never sleeps, and it's alive with energy," I nodded, and he shook his head.

"No, that is what everyone sees, a sight distinguished by their eyes," He paused his explanation briefly, "But… what is it that _you_ _see_ in Midgar? What does Midgar mean to you personally?"

I thought on it, thoughts straying to my father, probably preparing his possessions to come here. My thoughts strayed to my future as a Turk, as an enemy of Wutai, and inevitably, to thoughts of my cousin and uncle.

"Midgar, to me, is a second chance," I murmured, my eyes focusing on the lights below me, "Hope is what Midgar means to me. Perhaps even forgiveness."

Sephiroth's eyes didn't leave my face, as he nodded slowly. I felt his eyes searching my face, reading it, finding the expressions within it, before he eventually turned away.

"That is a wise answer, Tseng," He said softly, as I finally turned my gaze to him. He wouldn't meet it as I tried to read his own features.

"And you, General? What is it that you see?" I asked, and he stared out thoughtfully at the world below him. His eyes swirled slightly with that un-natural glow, before he offered a bitter smirk, accompanied by a small 'hmph'.

"Confinement," He replied finally, just as the elevator chimed open. He nodded, turning to exit, and as I followed him out, I offered a brief hand on his shoulder. He offered me a small nod and a fleeting smile, before heading down a hall, once again expecting I would follow. As he wished, I did so willingly.

--

**A/N:** Hope you liked. ^~^


	4. Chapter 4

Just a quick note to clear something up. I said last chapter that I was thrilled with having thirty reviews. I am. It may not be as much as other people, or other stories, but I am very grateful that whoever left those thirty reviews took the time to read what I'd written and leave me something to tell me so. However many reviews I get for this, I just wanted to thank you. It wasn't me boasting, or trying to be smarmy, or even that I was surprised or shocked. It was none of that.

I was, and am, just grateful. It's as simple as that. Basically, thank you all. That's all I was saying, and I'll say it again. I love you guys.

**Warnings: **See previous chapters. Still don't own the rights to FFVII. I'm working on it. Until then, this is purely a fan-based work that makes no profit whatsoever, and is simply for the personal enjoyment of the people who read it.

--

Back in Wutai, my living arrangements had been somewhat hastily shifted throughout the years. In the earlier years of my life, it had been Rebecca sharing my bedroom. We'd had a hand-built bunk bed crafted from my father's hands. More often than not, he made a lot of the necessities of our household; the dining room table, the low set table in the lounge, the book cases, and my sister's desk. He was good with his hands, and had spent much of his free time creating. He wasn't someone who was ever fond of destruction, although there were rumors of his setting neighbourhood hedges alight as a child. As Rebecca and I had come to learn, his craftsmanship was lasting also, as we often spent many mornings and nights bouncing relentlessly with childish energy on that bed, and it never once did so much as creak. Rebecca's desk, also, was sturdy. Having the top bunk, it was easy to recall an incident where I'd left a glass of milk on the bookcase above it. One night, when a mouse had slipped into the quiet of our room, Rebecca had woken me with a breathless whisper of 'did you hear that'? We'd spent the next half hour mouse hunting, before it had run directly over her feet, sending her flailing backwards and toppling the bookcase, milk and all onto our bedroom floor. My father had not been impressed, but the desk and bookcase were righted with little more than a scratch, and so we were sent to bed with barely restrained giggles amongst ourselves. Devyan had slept through the entire thing. Had the bonds of my father and Rebecca been as strong as that bookcase, perhaps events would have unfurled differently.

My mother was still living with us at the time. Difficulties had risen between her and my father, and eventually, they had decided on separating for the sixth time in the length of their marriage. That on its own should have signified how truly solid my father had been with relationships. He was a caring man, but he had difficulties in showing it. More often than not, he came across as somewhat cruel and careless, but for the most part, he was there when it happened. Devyan had moved out a few months earlier with work colleagues. It was a common thing in Wutai, as the convenience was said to benefit the family in the long run, and naturally, that was seen as favorable. When my mother and father had their most notable fight, she left in the evening, insisting on taking me with her. At the time, young and naïve, my greatest fear was not being able to see my sister any more. In tears, she'd come along. We'd stayed with Devyan for as long as he could manage. My mother had a running past with what we would later find to be the early stages of mental illness. More often than not, she would be angry, irrational, and then be suddenly filled with remorse. That had been such the instance when Rebecca had left one morning, not saying goodbye. I'd only just woken for school, my eyes blearily opening to my ears being filled with my mother's scream, a slamming door, and her subsequent sobs. Devyan had comforted her, and life had moved on. I often visited my father, and whilst he was apart from my mother, he was a changed mind. He seemed happier, and even though I'd longed for a strong family connection, things seemed better with them apart. My father had a childhood friend living with him, Yaki, and eventually, Devyan moved back into my father's house; albeit a little reluctantly. Relationships with my mother had grown tense for everybody, and it had left her with little more than me. Being a responsible son, I did as I could, despite being little older than nine at the time. I helped her with the chores; she helped me study for school and encouraged my love for the arts. She often spent a lot of time with my art teacher, as they discussed my blossoming talent, and occasionally spent time discussing their own lives as well. I was pleased to find a sense of normality falling back over everything. My mother was making friends, my father was happy, my brother and sister were together and living their own lives.

It didn't last long, however. One afternoon, news came that Rebecca had left home whilst my father was doing a night shift for the temple. She'd left little more than a note, taking all of her possessions and claiming my father was solely responsible for her own personal issues at her school, at work, for the gaping hole she now held between my mother and her. She was angry, that much was certain, and most likely confused. She was unsatisfied with her image of what had once been perfection, and she wanted to travel, to see the world, to live her own life. When my father came home to find the note, Rebecca had already left, as had Yaki. Seemingly, the pair had left together, and my father had never felt more betrayed. Rebecca was just short of seventeen, and Yaki was nearing forty. It was seemingly a running theme within our family, my father's sister having done much the same thing when father himself had been a boy. With both Rebecca and Yaki gone, the house was often quieter when I went to visit. My father didn't seem as happy as he was a mere few weeks earlier, and I think my mother began to see it. By my tenth birthday, I was back in my old room, with a gaping hole where Rebecca's presence once was.

I continued to sleep on the top bunk, and my parents seemingly renewed their love over the next few months. School was as it always had been, dull, seemingly pointless, and another necessity of the Wutaian culture. After school, we'd spend time fishing in the stream, catching tadpoles, or sneaking up to Da Chao to throw pebbles off the cliff face. Life seemed normal for a long time, and what more could a child want in their life than a relatively stable family, and good grades at school? Eventually, my brother fell in love. I was eleven when his girlfriend, Masuyo, started living with us. They'd started dating when I was nine, and I assume that being a child, I often didn't stop to wonder who she was when she came to visit. Normality continued, until I was twelve. My parents split again, this time offering me a choice with where to go. Too comfortable with my own surroundings, I now fell into my father's care. My mother had not been too eager to take me anyway, claiming that her new life was begging for adventure and happiness, and my siblings and I had little to do with that. She said her love for my father was lost, and she disappeared one day whilst I was at school. I came back to a silent household and a broken father. Old enough, and possibly wise above my years, I lived as I had to, knowing that our family was quickly becoming the talk of the town. My father was often spoken about with sympathy, my mother with loathing, and my sister with shame. My brother was quite often distressed, but rarely showed it, taking after my father in the need to display sturdy self-assurance before his beloved. In the turmoil surrounding us, more was caused when my unwed uncle and his son were thrown onto the streets by his partner at the time. My uncle and father had not spoken for many years, but after a plea from my ailing grandmother, my father took them both in. Rebecca's presence was soon dissipated and filled with that of a young boy, lost, confused and rebellious. I no longer slept on the top bunk, and when I came home from school, it was that same homemade desk that I now lay my own books upon.

Not long later, Devyan and Masuyo decided to make a life of their own. They left the house in search of their own land, and once again I had my own room, albeit at a different location of the home. By then, tensions had been rising between Kodin and me. He had become the little brother I'd never had. The bunk bed was separated, and we each had our own placed in our rooms. It was the first time since my father had built it, piece by wooden piece, that it had ever been divided. My room had never felt so empty, or so alienated, but in the end, that room was my own. Devyan would not be coming back, Rebecca had not spoken to my father for years, and my mother had soon found love elsewhere. Things stayed set that way, and my room had remained silent in the years that followed.

Now, as I stood on another foreign land, my eyes dragging along an unfamiliar and alienated floor space, it oddly felt like a new home had been birthed.

"It's not the most spacious hospice," I heard Sephiroth from behind me, "But it is much larger than you were likely to get with the Turks."

"Thank you," I murmured, offering a small nod as I stepped inside. It smelled comforting, and I was pleasantly surprised to find a set up of Wutaian incense by the window, a stick burning in the holder beneath it. I stepped to the window, overwhelmed to find a similar view of the city that the elevator had to offer, hidden only behind the vertical blinds placed across it.

"When the afternoon sun comes through, you may adjust the outside shutters with the panel on the wall," The General nodded, stepping inside after me, "It has quite a significant kick to it, as it's intensified by the mako in the surrounding air."

"You have the apartment next door, General?" I asked, and he gave a small nod.

"Should you need to contact me, I've had my phone number set up on the speed dial," he explained, gesturing at the phone on the kitchen counter, "The second button from the top is mine. The first is the Commander's."

I gave a small nod, my eyes trailing over deep blue counter tops, accompanied by cream walls and cabinets, and a white plush carpet. There were a few tasteful paintings on the wall, and a leather lounge and 2 accompanying lounge chairs on either side of it, all three upholstered with that same deep blue colour. There was a large potted palm tree beside the window, and a glass table in the middle of the lounge area, a large television screen against one of the walls. This was almost absurd…

"Are you alright?" Sephiroth asked, and I could not hold back the frown that filtered across my lips.

"Is this not a little extravagant for a rookie Turk?" I asked, and he gave a small, almost knowing smile.

"I am confident you will not hold that title for terribly too long," He remarked, "Besides, try not to focus your attentions on the 'extravagance'. You're being placed here so that you are within closer reach of myself."

I gave a nod as he turned towards the door, emerald eyes glittering with amusement.

"Let's go get your uniform."

--

The tailor gave me a small smile as I came through the door, but he faltered slightly as Sephiroth entered.

"General, sir!" He nodded firmly, saluting abruptly, as Sephiroth offered a half-hearted salute in return.

"At ease," The General rumbled, the tailor nodding as he did so, offering the General a small smile also. Sephiroth's expression was almost warm as he nodded at the man.

"I trust you are well, Corporal Stevenson?" Sephiroth asked, as the SOLDIER nodded.

"Yes sir. Aiming to go for second class trials once I'm fully healed and no longer needed here, sir!"

"All the best then," Sephiroth nodded politely, and I couldn't bite back the small smile creeping along my lips. Sephiroth was far from the average General. I could recall my own General whilst serving under Wutai, who knew very little of us and had no desire to do so. News reports had often portrayed him as a cruel and heartless man, but that had been in Wutai, and much of the news we were fed was tightly monitored by the Emperor himself. The more hate that was bred with propaganda, the easier it would be to recruit individuals willing to stop Shinra in its tracks. But no, Sephiroth was not a monster. He was a man, and a humble and honorable one at that. I suppose in some ways, he could even be considered a… friend.

"Here ya go," The tailor grinned, handing over a brown paper bundle, tied with string. I looked up at him slightly in confusion, and didn't miss the sidelong smirk that Sephiroth offered.

"I believe his need to wear the uniform is somewhat urgent," The General remarked, and the tailor gave me a once over. I was still wearing the ragged clothes I'd had whilst held as a prisoner, and whilst I'd been permitted to shower and quickly wash the outfit before Sephiroth had taken me to the president, it remained tattered and stained with Gaia knows what.

"Oh!" The tailor laughed, clapping his hand on my shoulder and steering me to the back of the uniform store, ushering me into a change cubicle. I threw a cautious gaze over my shoulder at Sephiroth, who did nothing more than nod encouragingly, before the door closed behind me.

It didn't take long to strip from my current uniform, as I frowned slightly at the amount of dirt it had accumulated since I'd first been given it. It didn't matter now, however, as I tore open the paper parcel and pulled out the rookie Turk outfit. Navy blue in colour, I looked it over with a small nod of approval, before sliding into it. The tailor had done a wonderful job with the measurements. It was a perfect fit, where it sat nicely around my frame, with a little bit of room to move, presumably for combat. I pulled on the shirt, buttoned it where necessary, and was impressed with the fine material used. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but it breathed well, it was strong, and it was flexible. More importantly, it was comfortable, as I found the suit jacket to be also. I pulled it on, straightening the collar and looping the tie around my neck, straightening the shoulders and buttoning up the front, before I allowed my gaze to settle on myself in the mirror. I would never forget that moment, standing in a Shinra uniform shop, placing a Shinra uniform on my Wutaian skin for the first time. Thoughts raced through my mind, on what my father would think seeing me dressed in such a manner. I wondered how the rest of my family would take the news, if they would be as understanding as I'd hoped they would.

"You right in there, Tseng?" The tailor asked, tapping on the door.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, fiddling with the latch to unlock the door, before stepping out into the shop once again. I met Sephiroth's gaze, just as the General offered a small smile. He gave me a once over with his eyes, and offered a small nod of approval.

"Does it look right to you?" I asked, slightly concerned that perhaps I was not up to Turk standards in the form of their dress code. He was silent for a few moments, his eyes sweeping over my body once again, as he gestured for me to turn. I did so with little hesitation, and he gave another nod.

"You have a natural knack for meticulous presentation, I think," he mused, "It's very fitting on you."

I gave a nod of my own in recognition, as Sephiroth offered a polite goodbye to the tailor and began to lead me back to the Commander's office. And just like that, I was a rookie Turk.

--

Veld was not the warmest man on the planet. His features were seemingly always set into a firm line of authority, or otherwise occupied in a dull curve downwards of bored indifference. In any case, he was not the most pleasing of people to stand before.

"You may have the uniform and the General's enthusiasm, but until we have managed to thoroughly test your abilities, you are not yet an official Turk," He said firmly, "Just like anyone else, you will have to earn that privilege, and the respect that comes with it. I will give you credit that Sephiroth has gallantly spared your life, despite the circumstances surrounding your capture. You obviously have something about you to warrant his attentions, and whilst that on its own is impressive, it is still not enough. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I nodded, and he reclined a little in his chair as he turned to face me properly.

"We have strict rules around here, and should you choose to break any of them or compromise the safety of any member of this team, or the integrity of the team itself, I will have no qualms about extinguishing the prominent threat that may result. If that results in the termination of your position here, or even your life, then so be it," He said firmly, as I held a firm gaze right back at him. He was intending on setting a firm line of obedience with intimidation, and whilst the method was not entirely appreciated by me, it was very well understood. Whilst he may be trying to shake my composure with his fierce, albeit subtle, manners of speaking, I was not willing to show any sign of how he had indeed affected my self-surety.

"I understand, Commander," I offered, nodding firmly once again. For a fleeting moment, he almost looked impressed, but he masked it well.

"Your family members will be within Midgar within the next few hours. You are expected at my office by six am sharp tomorrow morning, where you will be given a tour of the areas that you will find necessary for your training period. After that, you will be tested for the rest of the day in various aspects of duty. After assessment of tomorrow's performances, we'll see where things lead from then on," He nodded, offering me a very brief, almost forced smile, "Welcome to Shinra, Tseng."

He held out a hand and I shook it firmly, before he dismissed me, his hand delving into his pocket for a ringing cell phone. He didn't look up at me as I left, and I didn't offer more than a fleeting glance.

When I exited his office, Sephiroth was a little down the hall, engaged in a conversation with what appeared to be another SOLDIER. The man was dressed in a long leather coat, much like the General's, but in a shade of red instead of the plain black that personified Sephiroth. Auburn hair framed the stranger's face as he offered a seemingly arrogant smirk in Sephiroth's direction, bright blue eyes lighting up with dark amusement as the General offered a bored expression in return.

"… And if Angeal so wishes to do so, then it may be something worth considering," I heard Sephiroth's voice rolling across his tongue in an interesting fashion. He seemed very familiar with this individual, allowing himself a lax in his usually firm and well articulated words, and letting a slight Midgarian accent slip through as he did so.

"And if Angeal does not wish to do so?" the individual replied, as Sephiroth gave a small smirk.

"Then you're out of luck for this week, aren't you, Genesis?" the General said almost sarcastically, as he turned to face me, his companion doing the same. Genesis? Yes, I had heard of the man. He was said to be the closest rival to the General himself in skills, yet had never managed to come close to beating him. Blue eyes regarded me curiously as I approached, and Sephiroth gave a small 'hmph' of amusement.

"Welcome back, Tseng," He nodded, "I trust your meeting went well?"

"Yes thank you, sir," I nodded, as Genesis cleared his throat. If I had not known better, I'd have thought Sephiroth _almost_ rolled his eyes.

"This is First Class SOLDIER Colonel, Genesis Rhapsodos. Genesis, this is the newest Turk recruit, Tseng," Sephiroth said politely, as Genesis held out a gloved hand to shake my own, a smug smirk toying along his lips.

"A pleasure to meet you," Genesis murmured, amusement still along his features as he spoke in a rich flowing voice, "Rumor has it that you were a part of an assassination plot regarding the General."

I gave an uncomfortable nod, eyes flicking to Sephiroth, as the General held his smirk.

"It's a pity you failed," Genesis remarked dryly. Whilst there was an apparent humor in his voice, his eyes flashed momentarily with a trace of seriousness, and my blood ran a little colder as I pulled my hand from the handshake. Sephiroth gave a sidelong glance at the SOLDIER beside him, but said nothing on the matter.

"We'd best be getting you fed," The General remarked, eyes settled on me once more, "I don't doubt for a minute that you're likely to enjoy a proper meal."

"Thank you General," I nodded, meeting Genesis' gaze again, "It was nice to meet you, sir."

The first class gave that same smug smirk, before leaning to murmur into Sephiroth's ear and heading for his barracks. Sephiroth's eyebrows had furrowed in apparent annoyance at whatever words his comrade had offered, but he said nothing as we headed for the elevator. There was silence for a few moments, and I offered a small nod as Sephiroth gestured me into the waiting elevator.

"It's not often you see first class SOLDIERs, is it?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"Not often, no."

"Are you as close to the rest of them as you are to Colonel Rhapsodos?" I asked curiously.

"A friendly word of caution," Sephiroth said softly, eyes turning to me, "Avoid Genesis when at all possible. He's not as polite as he appears at times."

I gave a small nod, as he frowned slightly.

"Perhaps it would be best if no one knew I told you that, also," He said firmly, and I nodded once again, as the elevator chimed and headed for one of the lower floors, the city beneath us casting a glow across the General's hard set features. It seems as if there were a lot of things about the General I was yet to find out, and whatever issues he had with Genesis were likely to be a drop of water in the ocean of complex mystery that the General held. Hopefully, in time, I'd learn it all.

--

**A/N:** Lemme know what you think. I'd love a cheer up. SHIT WEEK. Bleh.


	5. Chapter 5

For Madisuzy, who reminded me of my love for this story.

* * *

In Wutai, the only place you were likely to get any sort of half decent meal was the Turtle's Paradise. Not many other places offered services such as theirs, in the fact that they were the only restaurant licensed to serve alcohol. Eventually, the owner had even begun advertising the establishment as a pub. People were never too bothered, as the tourists who travelled this far out were often looking for a place to eat out anyway, and the 'pub' was usually their first stop. Although, tourists were almost non-existent within our count-… No, I had to realise now that Wutai was _not_ my country. I had cut all ties with Wutai the minute I'd placed the Turk uniform against my skin.

"Is there any where in particular you may wish to eat?" Sephiroth asked from my side, as I gazed around the city, many eyes turned in our direction. Most were focused entirely on the General, but there was also many that were focused on me in nothing short of disdain. Had the General not been by my side, Gaia knows what may have happened…

"I'm not fussy," I replied quietly, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle, as his gaze lingered intently on me. It was as if he were attempting to force my eyes to meet his. I refused, however, and his gaze slowly drifted away, as we walked through the city streets.

"Surely you have a favourite food of some sort?" Sephiroth suggested, and I resisted the urge to shrug.

"Not in particular, sir. We had a diet primarily of rice and salmon whilst in the army, and I'm not sure you'd say it gave me a particular fondness of the stuff…"

I turned my eyes to him, as he made an odd sound, to find he was actually _laughing._ It was a quiet laugh, but it was a laugh just the same. As quickly as it came, it had left, but he still wore a soft smile on his lips.

"We could always narrow down the things you _don't_ like?" Sephiroth remarked, a hint of mirth to his tone. I offered a small smile of my own, before shaking my head.

"Local food would be fine, sir," I said simply, and he gave a nod.

He entered into a small restaurant, and I followed afterwards. The man at the counter near fell over himself rushing to greet the General.

"General Sephiroth, sir!" He beamed; sweat was dripping down his already oily skin, as his hair stuck down to his forehead in slick curls. "Welcome! Welcome! What can I get you?"

Sephiroth looked around the relatively calm dwelling, and he gave a nod of what I presumed was approval. He turned to me then, and asked me what I'd like to order. At this, the owner turned his attention to me, and all niceties fell from his face in an almost comical manner. That is, it would be, if his disgust wasn't directed solely at me. The owner shifted his weight from one foot to another, as he clearly weighed up the pro of having Sephiroth here against the con of serving the likes of me. After my silence, Sephiroth looked between the restaurant owner and I before frowning.

"Is there a problem?" He asked the owner, who wrung his hands a little, nervous eyes flicking from the General's gaze to mine.

"We don't… We don't normally serve his _kind_, sir…" The owner remarked, as I fought back my frustration and anger at the simple statement.

"Very well," Sephiroth said coolly, "It appears we aren't welcome, Tseng."

With that, the General turned to leave.

"But General, you're more than welcome!" the owner floundered, as Sephiroth paused, turning to face the man.

"You just said you do not serve Tseng's kind," Sephiroth said flatly, and the owner shifted uncomfortably, "I took that to mean employees of Shinra."

The restaurant owner baulked, his cheeks flaring red from his embarrassment.

"I meant…" The owner paused, a nervous flick of the eyes to me once again, "_Wutaianese._"

For some time, there was a stretching silence, almost awkward to be involved in. There was a thick tension, where Sephiroth focused an emerald gaze on the man before him, his body rigid and ominous. There was a small tremble rippling through the owner's body, and every patron in the venue now had their attentions focused on the confrontation.

"Let's go, Tseng," Sephiroth said finally, his voice clipped and very apparently disapproving, "I'd not offer my patronage here if I were _paid_ to do so."

He turned again, this time not waiting for any further remark from the owner, whose breathing was a little more ragged, as he placed a hand against his chest. A murmur broke out across the restaurant, as the sets of watching eyes remained focused on me as I followed the General outside. He walked in silence for a few moments, and I was still rendered speechless from what I had been witness too. The impacts of Sephiroth's spoken words were almost overwhelming, and it was clear that the General was indeed on my side.

"You knew the moment he'd said he didn't accept my kind, didn't you?" I asked bluntly, and he faltered in his step, his facial features softening from the hard lines his anger had caused. Now, he seemed merely remorseful.

"Yes. I apologize. Had I known he would act as he did, I'd not have taken you in there," He said quietly.

"You played naïve…" I said quietly, and he nodded once more, albeit reluctantly.

"Public humiliation seemed a fitting reprimand for such behavior."

"…Thank you."

He stopped then, either unaware or uncaring of the attention the sudden action had drawn, before he turned to face me, a frown along his features.

"You have absolutely no need to thank me," He murmured, "I have done more wrongs to you and your people than a mere incident like this would ever mend."

He shook his head, his hair falling over his shoulders at the action, his frown still worrying his facial features, before he turned away. He remained standing still, however, letting out a soft sigh.

"Even in that incident, you were wronged again," He said quietly, "And you thank me? Surely you realise the implications of the Midgar mindset of the Wutaian people by now…"

"I have endured it before," I admitted, "But no other person has offered support. I appreciated the fact that this time, someone spoke the words I felt I was unable to."

It was quiet then, the only noise coming from the nearby bustling of people, their voices floating through the air, as well as the blend of vendor shops and culinary experiences galore. I waited for him to speak, but he didn't. He began walking once more, and I followed faithfully behind him, as he walked through the city streets. He was different from the people back home, in more ways than I'd thought possible. He was masculine in many ways, yet, remained almost effeminate in aspects of his appearance. He was so pale, and his eyes were so bright, even when not flared with mako. It was his persona too, though. He held a kind of quiet, dignified grace about him, even in matters of war, when anyone from Wutai would explode with a berserker rage for the sake of their country. But, Sephiroth wasn't fighting for his country, he fought for his cause; whatever that was exactly, I wasn't sure. Seemingly, he was the exact opposite of a Wutaianese citizen.

"You're different from the others," I said simply, and his eyes flicked to me in what seemed to be surprised amusement.

"I have heard that often," he replied slowly, "But not quite as simply as you put it."

"I meant no disrespect," I added hastily, realizing the error of my words, "If anything, quite the opposite."

He nodded at this, a smile lingering along his lips.

"I understand. I am different to you, as you are to me," He nodded, "In a positive manner. Perhaps, with any luck, I can persuade you to trust me, by being different, as you say."

I nodded, knowing my very intention was to do the same with him.

* * *

Veld said nothing, his hard gaze fixed on me as he approached, Cissnei following after him like a cautious puppy, wary that one toe out of line would issue a scolding from him quicker than she could offer an apology. He wasn't gentle in the slightest, as he thrust a pistol into my chest. I'd arrived just on time, and for one reason or another, Veld seemed somewhat disappointed with my punctuality.

"We'll start off with basic target practice. It's not often we resort to handguns, as they're not the stealthiest weapon of choice," Veld paused, his eyes scanning me over, as my fingers curled around the weapon, "But depending on your accuracy, we will most certainly be able to determine if you can handle a rifle or the likes."

I nodded simply, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Yes sir," I voiced aloud and he gave a small nod, his eyes easing their crease.

"Good. When a Turk fires a gun, it is not intended to disable. It is intended to kill. If the mission were as carefree to merely disable a threat, you would not require a gun at all. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Aim for the head and the heart," He nodded, before moving away, Cissnei following after him. I turned to face the target before me, and placed the earmuffs over my ears. My senses were sharp, having had one of the best, most well rested sleeps of my life. Sephiroth had last night settled on feeding me food from the cafeteria, and pointing out different classes of SOLDIERs that filed past, as well as how to determine the rank of the individual. It was a complicated process, but I was confident I had learnt it well. He'd taken me back to my quarters, and I'd waited until I heard his own door close next to mine, before I headed to bed. I'd slept at ease, knowing Sephiroth was a mere wall away, should the need arise. I'd woken well before my alarm, and was only slightly surprised to hear Sephiroth already up and moving around in the next room over. The early bird gets the worm, or seemingly, the ranking of General…

"Tseng," A voice filled the room, as Veld spoke over the speakers, drawing me from my thoughts, "Are you ready?"

"Yes sir," I said, offering a nod also, in case he had not heard.

"You have six rounds in your gun already. There are another six ready to be loaded when you need them," Veld continued explaining, in that same flat-line voice, "We'll be marking you on your accuracy, as well as the ability to reload your weapon quickly and efficiently."

I nodded, and he gave a small 'hmph' over the speakers, before the countdown began. I held my hands steady, eyes fixated down the line of fire, as the last 'beep' sounded and the light beside my head turned green, signaling the test had begun. I squeezed the trigger, handling the recoil better than even I had expected, managing to take most of it through my body in a fluid motion, rather than jarring me backwards and off course. I had had plenty of arms practice in the army, but not using anything quite like this weapon. I continued firing, alternating between chest and head, until the first six shots were fired. I reached into my pocket, not taking my eyes off the target, and replaced the bullets I had fired in a relatively fluid movement, only struggling momentarily to lock them in. I fired again, another rapid succession of alternating shots, until I clicked again, and the weapon made a familiar sound of protest, signaling that it was empty. The red light beside me went on, and the final beep resounded, signaling the test over. There was an almost eerie silence that fell then, the last beep still echoing around the room, as I breathed in through the gun smoke and fragrance disperser that had triggered to remove the smell. It was still, as I lowered the weapon and slid my earmuffs from my ears, allowing them to rest around my neck, before the door swung open, and Veld stepped in. Initially, he didn't meet my eyes, but Cissnei did. She seemed almost stupefied.

Veld moved forward, calling forward the target with the pressing and holding of the button beside my stall. As it neared, Cissnei let out a small gasp, and Veld stiffened. I had done well. Six shots had pierced the area designated for the heart, three had hit the head area, and three had hit directly between the eyes. All in all, every shot had hit their target, in one way or another, and Veld tugged the paper from its holding, his eyes scanning it intently, as he compared the paper with a clipboard in his hands.

"Wow," Cissnei breathed, a smile spreading across her lips, "Tseng, that's… amazing!"

I bit back a small smile of my own, as I offered little more than a 'thank you' and a nod of my head towards the brunette. Veld was yet to say a word, and his words were the ones that counted.

"You've done well," He nodded, handing the target to Cissnei, "Incredibly well."

"Thank you, sir."

"Where did you learn to shoot like that?" He asked, and I fought back the urge to screw up my face.

"The army, sir," I paused, "As well as… other places."

My mind was drifting against my will, to a memory of my father taking me hunting, a glistening pistol in his hands, which he passed to me with a solemn nod of his head. It was traditional for a man to kill a peacock with nothing but a single shot before he was accepted into the elite guard. It was where my father had wanted me to be, following in his footsteps. The task was meant to show patience and steady aim, as well as many other key aspects worthy of becoming a true elite guard. We'd slipped through the undergrowth for what seemed like hours, until we'd finally found a bird, and we had waited, and waited. In my eagerness to please my father, I fired early, and my shot missed. I missed entitlement, and my father's disappointment was bitterly apparent. After that, I'd saved up and bought a weapon of my own, as well as a case of bullets. Every day, I would hunt of a night time. Every night, I would slide through the darkness, my vision becoming adjusted to looking and looking _hard_. I had been blessed by Gaia with sharp eyesight from birth, but it was the searching for what really mattered that tuned my sight into the planet further. Each night, I would go into the forest, and each morning, there would be an animal carcass of some sort out the back of our dwelling, a single bullet wound in its flesh. My father never said anything, but the small smile and subtle nod every morning at the breakfast table was more than enough.

Veld said nothing after my extended silence, his eyes travelling over me with a cautious curiosity. My army sergeant had done much the same, but not quite as intensely.

"You're a surprise, to say the least," Veld remarked, seemingly offhandedly, before he turned and gestured with a slight jerk of his head for me to follow. Cissnei did the same, her eyes still flicking to me, and a flash of a grin creeping across her lips intermittently.

"Have you fired a sniper rifle before, Tseng?" Veld asked over his shoulder, as we exited the room and turned down another corridor.

"Yes sir," I nodded, walking with my hands held in front of me, as opposed to Veld holding his behind. Perhaps it was another slight indication that Veld and I would always have our differences, no matter how small. My suspicions so far were that he and I would get along due to obligation, but that we were not likely to become 'chummy'. Who knew, however, as I had never expected to form a friendship with the General, especially after attempting to have him killed.

"This will be a brief test then," Veld nodded stiffly, pushing open a set of double doors, as sunlight flooded the hallway. It appeared we were heading outdoors.

"This is the Shinra recreational grounds," Veld explained, as he lead me around the corner of the building and up a set of metal stairs, "Turks, SOLDIERs, cadets, and regular office workers are, as you can see, entitled to mix and converse with one another in this area whilst on break or outside of work areas."

He stopped at a door and pulled out a set of keys, as I stood up on the stairwell and looked out across the expanse of walled in parkland. It was larger than I'd imagined possible for what was, essentially, a courtyard. It was almost as if someone had taken a natural attraction, placed it in the middle of shinra property, and walled it off from the rest of the world.

Veld stepped through the now unlocked and opened door, and Cissnei politely cleared her throat to indicate I should do the same. I offered a small nod of gratitude, stepping in before her, as she smiled softly and closed the door behind us.

"Out somewhere in the area is a target," Veld began, passing me a rifle with a strange modification on it, "This rifle is intended to fire paint pellets, for the purpose of this exercise. You have one paint pellet loaded within this rifle. This means one shot to hit, and effectively 'kill' your target."

I nodded, as he handed over a picture. The figure was certainly a striking one, and needless to say, stood out like a sore thumb. His hair was a blindingly bright red, and his eyes were a bright cyan, only made brighter by his enhancements. My eyes must have shown my surprise, as Veld's lips quirked slightly.

"He is well disguised, you need not worry," the Commander said dryly, "He is also a trained Turk, and he is… graciously… accepting this task as punishment."

At this, Cissnei snickered slightly, and Veld gave her a sharp stare. She quickly stopped, but the amusement remained apparent in her eyes.

"Hit the target in the _chest_. The wound is intended to be fatal. You have one chance to not only locate the correct target, but to obtain a clear and _fatal_ shot," Veld said firmly, his emphasis on the word fatal coming through clearly. Anything other than a direct shot to the heart would not be of a passing grade. When I nodded my understanding, the pair of them left. A bell sounded, and a majority of the people in the courtyard below looked at their watches, or the clocks situated around them, before packing up their lunch wrappers, paperwork and laptops, and headed back inside. Shortly after that, another large group of people exited the building, and I was slightly surprised to find that most of them were SOLDIERs or Turks. A fair few of them were looking around curiously, and it dawned on me then that for this kind of exercise, the potential 'targets' would have to have been aware. Potentially hitting an executive would have been disastrous for liability.

As odd as it was, as the minutes passed, it was actually the Turks that stood out slightly more. Whilst most of the SOLDIERs would give the occasional hesitant glance around, a handful of people made no movement to suggest that an exercise was going on at all. At first, I suspected that perhaps they really did not. After careful consideration, however, I began to recognize some of the finer details of the people through my scope. One of the girls, a pretty blonde, who was eating an apple and reading the Shinra times, had the same features and cheekbones as one of the girls in Veld's office the day prior. She was most certainly a Turk, and whilst her casual attitude was very convincing, it had not been quite enough. I moved my scope from one person to another, scouring the people across the vast courtyard, drinking in facial features as if they were water. Then, I faltered. One of the boys, a blonde with spikey hair, seemed somehow out of place. Whilst the rest of the Turks were sitting on their own or in pairs, this one was surrounded by a group of SOLDIERs, and was apparently discussing something in depth with them. I watched his mouth closely and managed to pick up the words 'target', 'punishment', 'training the rookie' and what seemed to be 'unfair bullshit' as he spoke them. The Turk ran a hand through his hair then, and I briefly looked at the photo of my target once again. Those bright red locks stood up slightly at the front, seemingly trained by a hand that had made the gesture more than once a day. I returned my focus to the figure, and took in his thin lips, curved slightly into an identical smirk to the photograph's occupant. I magnified my scope and realized also, that his eyes were slightly off colour, and it registered then that he was wearing coloured contacts. This was my man. I paused, my finger resting against the trigger, as a niggling fear swept over me. If I failed, where would that leave me? Would Veld, would _Shinra_ kick me out? Extradite me back to Wutai? I'd be as good as dead, and my father…

I took a deep breath and forced these thoughts away, returning my attention to my target, as I swallowed hard. One bullet. One shot. One chance to change everything I'd been and begin to mold everything I could be. I adjusted my position so that my scope had my target directly lined up to hit his heart. He kept moving, however, his hands apparently assisting with his elaborate storytelling, and I bit back the mild frustration he was causing. Patience was what one needed for a task such as sniper-ing. I waited for several more minutes, as he continued his movements, until, gradually, he slowed and came to a stop. He raised a hand to look up at the sun above him, standing still as he made a comment about the weather, and I took my opportunity. I pulled the trigger, and felt the recoil hit me, the shot ringing out loud and clear across the courtyard. Even from my position this high up, I could hear the bursts of laughter that resonated from the courtyard below. I looked down through my scope once again, and found my target sitting up from where he had fallen to the ground, the SOLDIERs surrounding him in hysterics, as he pressed a finger against the paint mark square against his chest. He then raised his sweater and shirt, and revealed a large purple bruise from where he had been hit, none too pleased about it. After a few moments, however, he seemed to judge the trajectory of the shot, and turned his attention directly at me. He gave a small smirk and an impressed nod, before the door behind me opened and Veld stepped inside. The howls of laughter below continued, even as Veld shut the door behind us and gave a nod of approval.

"Well done Tseng. It was a near perfect shot, and I know that must have been somewhat challenging, due to Reno's ferret like qualities," He remarked dryly, "He never seems to keep still."

I gave a small nod, and he cleared his throat.

"I'll have to ask how you knew it was him, of course," he said firmly, and I offered another small nod before explaining his facial details, the point of Turks standing out by _not_ standing out, and the lip reading regarding Reno's displeasure at having been picked as a part of this task. For the first time since I'd met him, Veld surprised me with a small, genuine smile.

"I am impressed," he said simply, before leading me out the door.

* * *

The rest of my testing went by without fail. Hand to hand combat had been with Veld himself, and whilst I had not been able to disable him, he assured me no one had ever come quite so close. I continued to impress him, and by the end of the events, he bid me a good day and shook my hand, informing me I had been accepted into the Turk program. I had a hard time recalling when I had been quite as relieved or proud of my own achievements than that solitary moment. That is, until I was heading back to my quarters and unlocked my door to find my father waiting indoors. He'd arrived in the early hours of the morning, slept very little, as he often did, and had waited for my return from training. He gave a soft smile as I entered, coughed, and then asked casually how everything had gone. He stood, listening with interest, as I'd detailed my each move. By the end of it, his eyes were bright and somewhat glossy, as he clapped a hand over my shoulder and smiled a little wider.

"I am proud to have you as my son," he had said quietly, and I bit back the surge of emotion threatening to come forward, knowing that those words and that simple pat of my shoulder was the most physical display of affection my father had shown since I was a young boy. It meant the world to me, and as I guided him to his own living area in a house just outside the Shinra building, the sky now getting dark in the later hours of the day, he smiled again, and he thanked me. It was something I could not have expected in any amount of time, and I entered the Shinra building once more with a light heart and a turmoil of emotion threatening to spill forth.

Upon reaching my apartment, I stood outside the door, fumbling with my keycard as my hands shook with overwhelming relief and emotion. I leant back against it and slid to the floor, still fighting back as much of my feelings as I could. I stiffened slightly, as I felt another presence nearby, but eased slightly, as Sephiroth unexpectedly took a seat beside me, his back also propped against the wall.

"I presume you've spoken with your father?" he said, after some time had passed and I had successfully calmed myself. He seemed to realize my turmoil, and had given me the space I'd needed without leaving my side.

"Yes," I nodded, "He arrived in the earlier hours of this morning."

"I'm aware," Sephiroth said simply, staring at the wall across from us, "How is he?"

"He… told me he was proud," I said quietly, unable to hold back the tremble of the emotion that these words held for me.

"Of course," Sephiroth said quietly, turning to look at me for the first time, "He has much to be proud of."

A voice inside me still begged me to believe otherwise; that I was a traitor, a liar, a fiend, and a silent tear fell unbidden from my eyes. I swiped furiously at it, disappointed and ashamed at my display of weakness in front of the General. He placed a hand on my shoulder, however, offering a light squeeze.

"Perhaps one day," he said, pausing briefly, "You will learn to see that too."

I said nothing further, and we sat out in the hall in silence until the sunlight had completely faded away, before retiring to our quarters alone.

**

* * *

**

**A/N:** I missed this.


End file.
